Hotel Mario: Revisited
by Heavy Mole
Summary: self-indulgent Mario satire
1. Chapter 1

"**The Sound and the Fury"**

"Hey, is dat _Barney_?" asked Bully.

Cheatsy nodded. "Yeah." He was watching the show with everyone else.

Bully took a seat. "Okay, why da hell are we watchin' this?"

No one answered. There was a very long silence.

**"Trouble Afoot"**

Meanwhile, Hop and King Koopa were traveling across the Mushroom Kingdom to oversee the seige and pillaging of Castle Toadstool, unaccompanied and on foot. The sun was shining and it was an absolutely luminous morning; the air was temperate, congenial, and made sweeter only by the melodious strains of dream-world air-fowl reverberating over an unblemished skyline.

"Wow, it sure is nice out," reamarked Hop.

Koopa cast a glance at him.

"...I'm just surprised is all," Hop continued at length. He then added agreeably, "you'd think it would be better to do something like this at night."

Koopa gazed away peevishly.

"...It just seems weird . . . I guess I'm not used to it. It feels like we're power walking to the caper, you know?"

Having not quite gotten into character yet, King Koopa puffed up laboriously and bellowed, "...Cheatsy my boy, seizing a throne is like strategic trick-or-treating." He paused unexpectedly. "Uh . . . wait, are you Cheatsy? You're lookin' a little sketched out there."

"No, I'm Hop," Hop replied.

"...Really?" Koopa asked, surprised.

Hop nodded.

"...What the hell...?" Koopa grumbled, perplexed. He let out an irritated sigh. "Damnit, I was _really _lookin' forward to a Cheatsy mission today."

"I thought there was something off," Hop said diffidently.

"Anyway, go on," Koopa said, urging Hop with a flustered hand gesture, "what were we talking about?"

"Uh . . . you said that seizing a throne is like strategic trick-or-treating."

"Yeah, huh. That. Well..." Koopa scratched his nose. "Eh . . . You know what? This whole thing really knocks the wind out of my sails. Let's just venture in silence."

"...Okay."

Hop and King Koopa continued walking on the nice day. There was a very long silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**"Trouble Afoot" (cont., part II)**

Cheatsy/Hop confusion notwithstanding, Koopa and Hop still had much time to fill on the long journey to Castle Toadstool. King Koopa had not planned anything special for this part of the trip, and, idle-minded from boredom, started to babble feverishly to himself. His obnoxious voice rippled through the remote hamlets and scenic locations he and his son passed on their stretching voyage, whilst Hop, who was the least interesting of his eight children, could only languish in helplessness.

"I got into a fight with Cheatsy last night," King Koopa had been saying, "about this _MySpace_ thing. I told him you gotta be careful posting messages on the chatroom . . . Shady people go there looking for kids to steal, and they're gonna try and trick you saying that they're sixteen-year-old girls, or your friends, or whatever. He doesn't know how these guys work . . . he thinks, 'oh, I'm so much smarter than them' . . . but you go to the chatrooms and your askin' for trouble. I don't want my kids goin' there."

And again later...

"Mouser, eh . . . I don't know. He invites me over to his house one day, right? So I think, 'oh, haven't been there in a while'. So I go. And everything looks great, everythings normal, and I get inside, haven't been there in a while, but everything's fine. And then his wife walks in the room and - I haven't seen her in years, by the way - and, she comes in and she looks really pale, and her hair is falling out, and she's lost an unhealthy amount of weight . . . it's obvious that she's suffering from some sort of disease or somethin', probably dying. And it's weird because Mouser doesn't say anything about it, and he's just pretending like nothing's different and . . . I don't know. It's weird.

"So I feel really bad for the guy and continue to do schemes with him, but it just gets weirder and weirder. Like, I'm passing his trailer and I can hear him sobbing, loudly. Later we're on a job. Er..." King Koopa paused here and scratched his nose. "I think we were doing _Citizen Kane _or somethin'..." he chuckled. "Not one of my better ideas, but, you know, I had just seen it . . . so, anyway, it was already awkward and and tense as it was. But I guess someone said something to totally piss him off, and all the sudden I heard him _screaming _at one of the troopas 'while you're at it, why don't you just screw me right in the ass. Right here, I dare you! You're a man, huh? That's what you want, isn't it? Do it!' You know, with that German accent. I didn't know what to do. I just told him to go home and called the whole thing off." He reflected for a moment. "I bet it had something to do with his dying wife . . . oh well. I see him every now and then, but I just don't call him anymore," he said, shaking his head.

For his part, Hop was growing ever more uncertain about the trek he and his father were on. Was Castle Toadstool really this long of a trip, albeit on foot? They had been traveling for hours and it was already mid-afternoon. King Koopa, in spite of his obesity, was apparently an indefatigable walker: he hadn't stopped once since leaving the castle, continuing on the same lumbering pace without breaking for food, rest, or gastral relief. Hop's feet now ached and he wasn't sure whether his hunger or his need to defecate troubled him more, and he could of sworn that they had passed through this same mushroom village many times already. He marveled at how the other koopalings, such as Kooky, could endure these rigors on a regular basis. And yet, still no sign of the destination.

"Here's the thing about you and Cheatsy," Koopa was prattling. "I think that out of all the koopalings you two are the most indistinguishable. In fact in my mind I often just lump you two together into one fuzzy . . . generic koopaling."

"I thought I was supposed to be twins with Hip," Hop replied.

Koopa wrinkled his nose. "Nah. He has that eye thing and rides a ball . . . I mean, what's so special about you? Nothing, really."

"You know, I've never actually seen him ride a ball. He's pretty lazy, it's hard to imagine . . . or maybe lethargic is the right word."

"I think of you like a distorted Cheatsy," his father declaimed, stirring a local infant out of its nap and into a strain of wailing. "Like . . . squish the head down like a mashed potato," he explained, using his hands over Hop's face to illustrate his point, "...buldge out the eyes, polish the head . . . yeah, same kid."

"Wait, I was born before him - why isn't he a distorted version of me?"

"I consider him slightly more important than you."

"...Okay."

"For reasons we won't discuss right now," Koopa blurted out, "but there are many complicated reasons."

***

Koopa and his son eventually arrived at a precipice overlooking Castle Toadstool, and their odyssey was at an end. Hop gratefully plopped down onto the grass to stretch his legs while his father underwent the necessary mental preparations for getting into character.

"Have a look, Hop!" he shouted, once ready. "Princess Toadstool is surely biting off more than she can chew as she tries to cope with my latest insidious infiltration of her castle . . . or should I say, 'less than she can chew', guhu."

King Koopa procuded an impossibly-sized purple walke-talkie from an inocular pocket on his upper-right thigh. He pressed its large red button with his index finger and spoke into it.

"Come in, you pesty sugar-peddler! . . . Huhu, try saying that ten times fast," he quipped.

Koopa waited and tapped his foot impatiently until the walkie-talkie suddenly began blaring static. "Der . . . uh . . . hey there, Mr. Slate, ahuhu..." came a garbled voice on the other end.

Koopa rolled his eyes. "We're in position for phase two. How goes the operation?"

"No problems with security over here, boss," the mysterious hireling reported. "We're just too sneaky for 'em. The marks don't suspect anything, and don't even give chase. You could say it's as easy as breakfast-cake, ahuhu..."

Koopa could sense him winking on the other end, and frowned. "Right. So we can move in?"

This time there was a very long delay in transmission. "...uh, yeah sure."

"Excellent work, my masked mercenary. Commencing phase two!" He put the walkie-talkie back in his thigh. "Come on, boy!"

"Um..." Hop gazed down uncertainly. "Why did that guy you were talking to sound an awful lot like Barney Rubble?" he asked, hoping it was mere coincidence.

A devious grin lit his father's face. "Cheatsy- er, Hop my boy, I'm glad you asked." He waited a moment. "...Yeah, it's him."

"Whoa, hold on..." Hop stopped and sat down again. "Why are we using Barney Rubble in our plans to seize political control of the Mushroom Kingdom? What happened to the armies you're randomly in control of?"

"They died," Koopa shrugged.

"Wh- you mean, they're dead."

Koopa nodded.

"So you single-handedly mustered legions of troops and lost all of them."

"Yup. The Marios killed 'em. Whad'you think I just have endless masses of soldiers at my disposal?"

"I . . . I guess not," said Hop, feeling foolish.

Koopa motioned him. "Come on. I'll let you in on the details of this new scheme on the way down to the front gate."


	3. Chapter 3

**"Trouble Afoot" (cont., part III)**

"So the plan is to use Rubble, the Trix Rabbit, Lucky the leprechaun, the Soggies, the Noid, the Hamburglar and Sonny the Cocoa Puffs cockatoo as secret agents in a silent war of attrition against the Toadstools," Koopa explained. "As of today, they've been living under-cover with the princess and her troublesome toads for several grueling months."

"Several months?" Hop cocked an eyebrow.

"Now, all _we_ gotta do is show up at the door and offer our services to get rid of those gadfly gimmicks. Huhe, after this long that missy monarch will be _beggin' _for us to get rid of 'em!"

"...So that's the plan, huh?" Hop asked.

"Yup, in a nutshell."

"You know, the weird thing is that this is probably how Nixon got into office."

Koopa looked blankly at Hop for approximately fifteen seconds. "...go on. Is that it?"

"...'Is that it?' What do you mean?"

"Well . . . usually if I have Cheatsy or Kooky with me they'll make some kind of suggestion to improve the plan, or offer to do some kind of trick to help me. Not make some crack about Nixon."

Hop shrugged.

"...Fuckin' weird." Koopa shook his head vexedly - this was why Hop didn't get invited on solo outings.

***

Castle Toadstool is the headquarters of the Toadstool family, the main rivals of the Koopas. But in fact, while the Koopas are a large family of naked townie reptiles, the Toadstools are an even queerer bunch - made up of an enigmatic princess and a squad of her indentured servants, they abode together under mysterious circumstances in the castle, where they conduct 'business'. The public image of the household is so colorfully cuddly that most citizens are satisfied simply to go on rendering semi-pornagraphic images of the princess, without wondering what kind of decision making goes on behind the castle walls.

One of the most important roles of the royal family is to receive, entertain and proptiate important visitors from other improbable and cartoony lands. And that is a pretty good thing, since the strained and belligerent relations between those places make the theater of the modern-day Middle East look like an episode of _Lucky Star_; unfortunately, however, the factioned state of the Mushroom Kingdom, combined with Peach Toadstool's uncertain lineage and the peculiar events surrounding her reign, have historically made foreign relations a difficulty for the castle staff. On this occasion, the Toadstool's were holding a banquet in honor of a particularly picky and punctilious penguin who had arrived several days earlier, claiming to be a diplomat from a certain city-state which, as it happened, held a tenuous non-aggression pact with the Mushroom Kingdom. Not wishing to take any chances on the matter, the princess welcomed the penguin into the house and subsequently centered her existence on the happiness of this surprise guest.

Those in attendance ate at a long, ostentatious dinner table, in a high-ceilinged room reminiscent of a chateau setting. The princess and selected staff were seated together at one end of the table, while Henry (our visiting diplomat) occupied the head of the other end by himself. Henry was a short penguin with a slender, gelatinous appearance, in contradistinction to the bulbous monstrosities inhabiting the Mushroom Kingdom. He exhibited a curious kind of quiet intensity, taking relaxed, musing spaces between each bite of his fish sticks, and occasionally peering out through his beady green eyes with a redoubtable, cold expression.

"Mmm, yes . . . newspaper," he mumbled, engrossed in his newspaper.

Also, he kind of sounded like "Squiggy" from _Laverne and Shirley_.

All of the dinner guests except for Henry had finished their three fish sticks nearly forty minutes before, and now waited with forced politeness for their visitor to do the same.

After sitting languidly for some time, Toad tossed his napkin bib on his plate and said, "so, uh . . . thanks for slaving all afternoon for dis banquet, Toadsworth."

Toadsworth smiled and bowed gently. "It is my pleasure, Master Toad."

"Hey, princess..." Toad muttered furtively to his right, "after dinner, can I have a bowl of Fruity Pebbles?"

"Huh . . . No, you just ate."

"Oh, three fish sticks!" he pouted. "Why are _we_ all stuck with da same thing as dat penguin, anyways?"

The princess shrugged. "I figured it'd be rude any other way."

"Rude?" Toad asked quizzically. "...Rude? He's-"

"Well, how would you feel sitting there with a steak while your guest has _Kid's Cuisine_?"

"He's reading a newspaper at the dinner table!"

"...Besides, we're out of Pebbles anyway, I think."

"...What...? That too, now?" The mushroom shook his head and collapsed into an exasperated slump.

"Well . . . maybe you shouldn't eat it all the time," Peach went on in a nagging tone. "Too much of that junk will give you diabetes."

Toad's hands shot up in defense. "I haven't had any. I was gonna grab a bowl this morning . . . ya know, that reminds me, I met the nicest robot today..."

"Ahem." Henry was eyeing the group with his newspaper laid flat on the table. Or maybe it was glaring.


	4. Chapter 4

**"Trouble Afoot" (cont., part IV)**

"Princess," Henry began at length, "I was just thinking about how I'm going to tell all my friends what a lovely place the Mushroom Kingdom is to visit when I get home."

This was some exciting action, and exactly the kind of sentiment the castle staff had been steering Henry toward in their gracious endeavors; Princess Toadstool surreptitiously turned to those present with a smile and two thumbs up in encouragement of this new watermark in diplomatic success.

Toad, however, was faced away with folded arms and a scowl.

"Why so aloof, Toad?" the princess asked cheerfully.

"Eh? Oh . . . sorry..." he replied, scratching his nape. "I guess I've just been in a bad mood in general da past couple weeks."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah . . . now that you mention it, you have been a bit more irritable recently . . . Hey," she exclaimed, "it wouldn't happen to do with the food situation around here, would it? Do you know what I'm talkin' about?"

Toad sprang forward. "Yes...!! You've noticed too? What da hell? It's the most annoying friggin' thing!"

"I know, right?" The princess shuffled in her chair. "I mark all the Trix yogurts 'P' for princess and I go in there and they're just . . . gone." She shook her head. "Like . . . no consideration whatsoever. It's _so _rude."

Toad scoffed sympathetically. "Yeah, ya know how I like to keep a little pyramid of McDonald's cheeseburgers on a platter handy in case of a picnic? _Those _have been disappearin' too..."

"I, too, have suffered this unfortunate phenomenon," Toadsworth interposed. "Why, just a few mornings ago I had been searching without luck for my favorite 'lucky marshmellow cereal', as it were, when I chanced upon a skittish green fellow in possession of a box nearly as large as he himself! But when I accosted him, he started and began talking to himself - it was the most curious thing."

"Mmm."

"Yeah," the princess motioned for him to go on.

"Well . . . he made a dash out the room, and I pursued him as best I was able, but this old heart simply could not keep pace. I was forced with sadness to resign as he made his final escape in a hot air balloon which was evidently parked outside the castle. In the end, I decided to settle with 'cocoa crispies', which were also missing when I returned to the pantry."

"Wait, we had Cocoa Crispies?" asked Toad.

"Eh . . . maybe they were 'puffs'," replied Toadsworth. "Is there a difference?"

"Big difference, dude," Toad said disappointedly.

Priness Toadstool rolled her eyes. "Okay . . . well, anyway, we should definitely get to the bottom of this."

"It is quite frustrating," Toadsworth concurred.

"Princess, let me save you the trouble of an investigation," Toad snidely interjected.

"Toad, I already know what you're going to say."

By now, Princess Toadstool, Toadsworth, and Toad had forgotten about Henry, who had become a patient and curious auditor to the raving proceeding loudly at the opposite end of the table; this arising friction interested him in particular.

"You can't blame Koopa for everything," the princess reminded Toad.

"Yes you can," he replied matter-of-factly.

The castle had recently undertaken to be more politically correct, to help remedy an apparently atrocious racist streak in its public image.

"Remember when I found dat litter and "somehow" knew it belonged to him, even though he was nowhere around? What happened then? Was I right?"

"All I remember is that it lead to a wrestling match and you crying a lot," the princess answered perplexedly.

"He's like da living embodiment of da Zoroastrian principle of _druj_, this absolute chaotic force which undermines order in da universe."

"Hmm...Zoroastrianism, huh?" Henry scratched his beak. "Tell me more about this...'Koopa'..." he called to the other end of the table.

Princess Toadstool was stunned for a moment. Of all possible subjects of discussion with the unannounced diplomat, this was the one she had been most adamantly avoiding, and for good reason. She leered at Toad with scathing eyes.

"Um...well, you see..." she began nervously, "there's this guy. We've had a little trouble with him in the past...but it's no big deal, really..."

"Oh?"

"Well, he's a local who must...not be satisfied with how things are done here, or something...you know how it is..."

"Yeah..." Henry looked about quizzically. "You know, there are some things that could use changing around here..." Here he paused for a while. "Like those endless stairs..." Another long pause. "Tell me more," he asked enthusiastically.

"Oh...well, he's not the kind of person you think. First of all, he's a self-proclaimed king of his race, so what does that tell you?"

"Assertive, huh? My kind of guy..."

Princess Toadstool started chewing on her lip. "Okay. How about this. He lives in a run-down castle with a large family of children which he 'mysteriously acquired' without the aid of any woman we know of. Twenty-two kids, and fourteen of them are dead."

"Wow, what a trooper." Henry was absolutely breathtaken.

"No!" the princess objected. "Okay, but rather than voting in elections or participating in local government in a sane way, he dresses up and one way or another forces us into these cliche movie plot scenarios that always fail because he sets _himself_ up as the bad guy. And if not that than some other garbage, like getting babies to do his chores."

"Really...? What movies has he done?"

"Oh...I can't remember..._Honey I Shrunk the Kids!_, I think-"

"Love that one," Henry remarked. "That is one of my favorite movies."

"...He makes bad jokes."


End file.
